


i promise

by RomanoJet



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: 5+1 Things, Childhood Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Promises, Sylvix Week 2020 (Fire Emblem), injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:08:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26648794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomanoJet/pseuds/RomanoJet
Summary: Sylvain always kept his promises.This, in itself, was a ridiculous statement. But he always kept his promises to Felix. Whether they be silly or serious, Felix couldn’t recall a single time throughout their entire lives after Sylvain said the words "I promise" that he had gone back on his word.------or: 5 times Sylvain keeps his promises, and 1 time he (almost) doesn't.Sylvix Week Day 5: Promises
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 69
Collections: Sylvix Week 2020 Fic Collection





	i promise

**Author's Note:**

> sylvix week grind never ending please enjoy :)

Sylvain always kept his promises. 

This, in itself, was a ridiculous statement. Felix could count the amount of promises his childhood friend had broken even just  _ today _ on two hands.

The main difference was that these were petty, shallow promises, made to whatever pretty thing he was chasing that week. Those, he broke with no regard whatsoever. 

But he always kept his promises to  _ Felix.  _ Whether they be silly or serious, Felix couldn’t recall a single time throughout their entire lives after Sylvain said the words  _ I promise _ that he had gone back on his word.

* * *

**1 (Plums)**

Once, when Felix was five and Sylvain was seven, the redhead had come on a visit to Fraldarius in the summer. Felix was bursting with excitement, ready to show Sylvain the luscious plum trees on their grounds, which were now tall, strong, and bursting with fruit. He dragged Sylvain out by the hand as soon as he settled in, laughing with joy all the while. When they arrived, he planted his feet down firmly, staring up at the majestic thing. Next to him, Sylvain looked impressed, and Felix felt triumphant.

“Don’t they look good?” he asked, mouth watering a little. 

“Yeah,” Sylvain agreed, bending to pick a fallen plum off the ground. It had a big, squishy, gross spot on it, so there was no way they could eat that. 

Felix pouted, getting down to look for a good plum that they could sample. Every plum on the ground, however, had something wrong with it. He even found one with a little worm crawling its way inside! He sat down on the ground, whimpering a little as tears began to spill over down his cheeks, his frustration peaking. 

“Hey, it’s okay, Fe,” Sylvain said worriedly, crouching down to wipe his tears away. “We don’t need to eat one. Besides, I’m sure the kitchen has something.” 

Felix shook his head stubbornly, his lip quivering. “N-No. I want one of these.” 

Sylvain looked over at the tree, and then back at Felix. “You know what, Fe? I’ll get you one. I promise.” 

He gave Felix one last pat on the head and ran to the tree trunk, looping his arms around the bark. Then, to Felix’s amazement, he hiked himself up, inching up the tree. 

“How are you  _ doing _ that?” he shouted in amazement, his tears forgotten. 

“I’m older, so I’m cooler! That means I can do more things than you!” Sylvain said back, flashing a grin as he turned around. And to Felix, this statement was utterly true. 

He watched with bated breath as Sylvain slowly made his way up the tree. When he got near a branch loaded with juicy plums, he adjusted his grip and leaned over precariously, stretching his arm out to snag one of the fruits. 

It happened in an instant. The moment Sylvain’s hand closed around one of the biggest plums, the branch he was leveraging himself on snapped suddenly, causing his grip on the tree to loosen. In a split second, he had hit the ground, an alarmingly loud crack being the only noise Felix could hear. 

For a second, Felix could only stare at the motionless form on the ground, his eyes wide and panicked and his face utterly pale. Then, he started wailing, tears streaming down his face as he ran to get Glenn. It was all he could do, too afraid of what might have happened to Sylvain. 

He ran straight into Glenn, who went to get their father, who gathered up some of the Fraldarius healers to transfer Sylvain to the infirmary. 

“It’s alright, Felix,” his father said soothingly, patting his shoulder as they stood outside the infirmary door a little while later. “It’s only a broken arm. With our healers’ skill, he’ll be better in a few days.” 

Felix hadn’t stopped crying since it had happened. He felt exhausted, terrified, and all he wanted was to hug Sylvain and make sure he was okay for himself. 

His father regarded him with sympathy, and then pushed the door open quietly. “Come on. Let’s go say hi.”

Felix darted in through the door, making a beeline to the bed where he saw a figure with bright red hair laying down. His arm was tightly bound, attached to his chest with a piece of cloth. It didn’t look like he could move it at all. “S-Sylvain?” he whimpered. 

Sylvain, who looked asleep, blinked his eyes open blearily. “Fe?”

Fresh tears spilled down Felix’s cheeks. “I thought you were gonna  _ die!” _ he wailed. “Why did you do that?” 

Sylvain cracked a small smile. “‘S okay, Fe. All I have to do is wear this cast for a bit and I’ll be okay.” 

Felix wanted to punch him with tiny fists, but he knew not to do that when Sylvain was already hurt. “That doesn’t matter! Why did you climb up?” 

Sylvain’s gaze went unfocused for a second, and then he looked over at the bedside table. Felix whipped his head around to see what he was looking at. A big, purple plum sat there primly, shining and ready to eat. 

Suddenly, Felix realised that it was the one Sylvain had promised to get him. Conflicting feelings rose up inside him, nearly choking him, ones he couldn’t possibly name. “You…” 

Sylvain gave a small chuckle. “I did promise, after all.” 

Felix stormed over to the plum and took it in his hands. It was perfect, not a single flaw visible. “Sylvain…” 

Sylvain beamed at him, happy despite his predicament, and Felix could only clutch the plum to him and wonder how he could be in such high spirits after getting hurt. 

**2 (Grief)**

The day Felix’s mother died was grey and stormy. Most days in the Lone Moon were, but today it seemed like the sky was weeping for their loss. 

The day of the funeral was, as a contrast, illuminated in weak sunlight that struggled to shine through the clouds. The Fraldarius family - or what remained of it - stood around the grave solemnly. 

The royal family, Galateas, and the Gautiers has all attended. Felix didn’t care, his face carefully screwed up to prevent crying, ignoring Dima and Ingrid whenever they tried to talk to him. He didn’t know where Sylvain was, but he tried not to seem like he was looking around for him. Glenn had been with him all day, but now he was with their father, acting all serious and straight-faced as if he wasn’t also just a boy who had lost his mother. 

Speaking of which, Rodrigue and Glenn were now talking to the Margrave and the King. Everyone kept coming up to Rodrigue and apologising for his loss, as if he could have done anything about the sickness. It gave Felix an uneasy feeling, his eyes itching as it sank in over and over again that he wasn’t ever going to see his mother’s smile again. 

He needed to leave. He turned in a random direction and started running, ducking his head to prevent the tears from falling, before crashing into someone with an  _ oof.  _

He looked up into the face of his best friend, who looked back down at him, surprise on his face melting into concern. “Fe.”

Felix clenched his jaw, swiping the back of his hand against his eyes. Sylvain was dressed in black, like the rest of them. He didn’t know how he had missed his red hair in the crowd. “Go away.” 

“Fe, wait,” Sylvain said, clasping his hand. He didn’t force Felix to remain there, and yet Felix found himself staying anyway. “You shouldn’t be alone.” 

Felix scowled. “Why not? Everyone’s over there telling Dad how sorry they are. Why don’t you go join them? More useless words that won’t bring her back.” His voice caught on a sob. He was trembling. 

Sylvain shook his head, his eyes melancholy. “I want to stay with you.” Slowly, he maneuvered Felix into a hug, squeezing him lightly. 

Felix sagged into Sylvain’s arms, clutching the back of his coat tightly. Finally, he couldn’t hold the tears any longer, and sobbed into Sylvain’s chest. He was a mess, tears and snot getting everywhere, and yet Sylvain didn’t push him away. All he did was hold him, his arms a solid presence at his sides. 

“I miss her,” he hiccuped, pressing his face into Sylvain’s chest. “I don’t want her to be gone.” 

“I know,” Sylvain murmured, his voice heavy. “I’m gonna miss her too.” 

Felix sniffled, keeping his face hidden in the fabric for now. Sylvain never left, never got tired of his crying, never said he had to go. “You don’t have to stay here with me,” he finally said, his voice wavering. 

Sylvain sighed, dipping his head down to rest on top of Felix’s. “I know. But I’m not leaving your side, Fe. I promise.” 

Felix’s lip quivered, and he buried his head further into Sylvain’s chest, letting the comforting warmth of his friend surround him on all sides. The pain in his heart was fresh and bleeding, but he felt a little less alone. 

“Felix!”

Felix jumped a little, feeling Sylvain stiffen, and then relax. “Rodrigue,” the older boy said, sounding far more formal. “He’s just here.” 

Felix refused to look up at his father, clinging stubbornly to Sylvain. Rodrigue sighed. “Thank you, Sylvain. Felix, the King wants to talk to you. Young Dimitri and Ingrid have been asking about you, as well.” 

Felix scowled, lifting his head, though his fists stayed screwed into Sylvain’s clothing. “I don’t care. I don’t want to talk to them.” 

Rodrigue looked old beyond his years, making tired eye contact with his son. “Please, Felix. Do not make this difficult.” 

Felix glared at him, unmoving. “I don’t want to hear what they have to say. It’s all the same. None of it means anything.” 

Sylvain, caught in the middle, looked from Felix to Rodrigue. “Fe, if I go with you, will you go?” he asked quietly. 

Felix looked up at Sylvain in surprise. His promise from before echoed in his head. “...Fine.” 

Rodrigue glanced at Sylvain with a clearly grateful look, turning to lead them over to the others. “Let us go, then.” 

Sylvain hugged Felix tightly one last time, and then let him go. However, his hand immediately found his, palms fitting together. “I won’t leave your side,” he said quietly, a reminder. 

Felix couldn’t find the words to express what he wanted to say, so he simply looked down at the ground, clutching Sylvain’s hand tight. “You’d better not,” he finally mumbled. 

The rest of the funeral passed by in a whirl of endless faces devoid of much emotion but boredom, but Felix never let go of Sylvain’s hand the entire time. Sylvain, in turn, never looked like he wanted to leave. He stuck by Felix’s side all the way until the end, even when the funeral dispersed. 

The Gautiers were staying at the Fraldarius’ until the next day, since the roads were treacherous at right during this time of year. All evening, Felix made sure he didn’t let go of Sylvain, whether it was holding his hand or the edge of his shirt. 

Without having to ask, Sylvain could tell that Felix wanted him to spend the night in his room. And so he did, getting into bed with him and holding him tight. He didn’t offer meaningless words of condolence like everyone else. He didn’t say  _ I’m sorry.  _ But he stayed with Felix. He was there for him, and Felix was a little overwhelmed with the amount that meant to him. 

“Night, Felix,” Sylvain whispered, after Felix’s next bout of crying had finally softened into mere sniffles. 

“Night,” Felix managed, the feeling of Sylvain at his side, just like he had promised, finally calming him enough to slip into sleep. 

**3 (Training)**

“Hey, Felix! How’s my favourite grumpy sword boy today? What’re you up to?”

Felix’s hands itched to form into fists and punch Sylvain away from him as he felt an arm land around his shoulder and an annoying voice prattle into his ear. He managed to restrain that instinct, instead sneering up at Sylvain. “Do not refer to me in that way.” 

Sylvain only laughed. “Aw, but it describes you so well! C’mon, throw me a bone, here.” 

Felix finally had had enough, and pushed him off. “I will do no such thing. Anyway, what I’m ‘up to’ is getting something to eat and then going to the training grounds, and I suggest you do the same.” 

Sylvain sighed dramatically, draping himself all over Felix, much to his horror. “Do I  _ have _ to? I mean, you train enough for the both of us, don’t you? I’ve got other things to do.” 

“Are you an idiot?” Felix snarled, glaring up at Sylvain, reminding him of how unfairly tall he was. “That’s not how it works. You need to train  _ yourself _ so that you don’t get  _ killed. _ ” 

“But Feeee…” Sylvain pouted, laying his chin on top of Felix’s head. Which, nope. Felix couldn’t let this keep going, or the traitorously loud beating of his heart would give him away in an instant. He broke away from Sylvain’s hold, whirling around to stare daggers at him. 

“I don’t want you dying on the battlefield because of some stupid, easily preventable mistake,” he said through gritted teeth. It was hard for him to just outright say that he was worried about Sylvain, but he was expressing it the best he could. 

Sylvain gazed at him for a moment, something like recognition entering his eyes. He had always been unfairly good at reading Felix, much to his chagrin. “...Okay, Felix. I’ll train with you tonight. I promise.”

Felix was still wary, but his frown smoothed over a little at the edges. “Good. I expect to see you there.” 

Before Sylvain could say anything else, Felix turned on his heel and marched to the dining hall, like he had been doing before Sylvain had inserted himself into the picture. 

After he finished his meal, he turned on the path directly to the training grounds, like he always did. Briefly, he entertained the thought of finding Sylvain and dragging him there, but...no. If he was serious about this, then he’d go there himself. 

However, as he passed the rooms and the stairs to the hot springs, he felt something in his gut tighten as he caught sight of a fiery head of hair at the bottom of the steps. Predictably, his friend was standing there with a gaggle of girls around him. They were all making gross, adoring faces, clamouring to be the one who he lavished the most attention on. Disgusting. Felix felt his lip curl with disdain, and he stopped short just behind him. 

One of the girls noticed Felix standing there, and her face grew fearful. The expression on his face must have been harsher than he thought, because the other girls were looking a little scared, too. 

“What’s wrong?” Sylvain asked, looking over his shoulder in surprise. When he caught sight of Felix, his face did the opposite. It lit up, his eyes brightening. Felix didn’t even want to think about what  _ that _ did to his stomach. 

“Hey, Felix! Have you met these gorgeous girls? I just got to know them.” 

“He’s going to choose one of us to take on a date tonight,” one of them simpered. “It’s going to be  _ me.” _

Another girl shoved at her shoulder. “Wrong! Sylvie is taking  _ me  _ out!” 

Felix ignored the squabbling easily. A cold anger was coursing through him as he glared at Sylvain. “You said you would train with me tonight.” 

He couldn’t exactly explain why this was making him so pissed - after all, Sylvain was infamous for ditching obligations to take girls out. But this was different. He had promised. 

Sylvain’s eyes went wide for a second before he slipped back into his fake, charming grin. “That’s right. Ladies, I’m afraid I’m already taken today!” He laughed, the sound nothing like it was when he was just around Felix. “I’ve got a date on the training grounds with my good friend, here. I’ll see you all tomorrow, how about that?” 

There was a chorus of  _ no! _ and  _ don’t go! _ but Sylvain eventually got rid of the girls and settled into place at Felix’s side on the rest of the trek to the training grounds. Felix still felt a curling of anger in him, and he stared hard at the ground. 

“Fe?” Sylvain asked. He sounded worried. 

“Why didn’t you just go with them?” Felix burst out. “You hate training and you love cavorting about with women. So why didn’t you?” 

Sylvain started at him, surprised, even as they pushed open the doors to the training grounds. “Felix, I promised you. Those girls came up to me and started talking about dates before I could even say a word. I never had any intention of doing anything but training with you tonight.” He grinned, bumping his shoulder a little. Felix feels warm where their bodies touched. “Besides, I’d take spending time with you over them any day. You know that, right?” 

Felix grumbled and avoided the question, instead throwing a practice lance at Sylvain as he took his own practice sword. But the words remained in his head long past the spars and the banter and everything else. He promised. 

**4 (Cats)**

War was dark, and cold, and difficult. 

But this? This was almost  _ more  _ insufferable. 

“Feeeeeeelix!” Felix winced as Sylvain’s grating voice assaulted his ears for the upteenth time. “Please, help me out?”

“I’m not cleaning up the stupid cathedral,” he groused, pushing Sylvain aside as he tried to rope him into some sort of grapple. 

“I don’t wanna do it with Ingrid,” Sylvain bemoaned. “She never lets me get away with anything.” 

“Good,” Felix said scathingly. However, just as he was about to turn on his heel and leave Sylvain to his fate, he caught sight of a dusty ball of fur amid the crumbled ruins. His eyes instantly widening, he pushed Sylvain aside and fell to his knees, clearing away the bits of rock and gravel all around. 

With a weak mew, the ball of fur stirred. It was a cat, weak and injured. It was coated with dirt and dust, and it looked starving. It must have been one of the stray monastery cats, caught in the middle of a war it couldn’t possibly comprehend. And now it, an innocent creature, was paying the price. 

Felix felt anger flare up inside him, hot and deadly. The flame dampened somewhat as he felt a concerned hand on his shoulder. “Felix?” Then, Sylvain’s eyes were drawn to the cat. “Oh. It doesn’t look too hot.” 

Felix clenched his fists. “I hate this stupid fucking war.” 

Sylvain turned his head, taking in his face. Then, a determined look came over his features. “Me too, Felix. And you know what? We’re going to save this cat. It’ll live. I promise.” 

Felix stared at Sylvain for a moment, a little taken aback by how adamant he was. “What can we do?” 

Sylvain’s brow furrowed. “Okay. Hmm. I’m going to get Mercedes to make sure we don’t hurt this little guy more, alright? You stay with it for now.” 

“Okay.” Felix knew his voice was tight, still uncertain. Maybe that was why Sylvain sounded so reassuring. It was unlike his usual carefree attitude, and Felix was actually pretty grateful for it. 

As Sylvain jogged away, Felix brushed his fingers very lightly along the cat’s coat. It gave another pitiful mew, its nose twitching. Felix put his fingers up to it, and it sniffed at him before giving him a few weak licks, looking up at him with beautiful amber eyes. 

Felix had always had a soft spot for cats. Sylvain had always been more of a dog person, but he sounded just as determined to save this cat. It made Felix’s heart do strange things. ...Sure, he and Sylvain had been ‘dating’ for a few weeks now, but he was still reeling at all the ways that Sylvain openly showed affection, now that he could. 

Burying this thought, he pushed away some of the surrounding rubble to create a better space for Mercedes to work in once she got here. In a few more minutes, footsteps against the hard rock sounded, and Felix looked up to see Sylvain and Mercedes hurrying over. 

Mercedes crouched down next to Felix, carefully hovering her hand over the cat, allowing it to sniff her. Because she was a literal goddess, the cat merely mewed again quietly, not showing any aggression at all towards her.

Sylvain looked like he wanted to bounce from foot to foot, obviously nervous. However, he kept still. “Can we save it, Mercie?”

Mercedes hummed. “Yes, I believe so.” Her hands glowed with a white light, passing over the cat several times. Its eyes were wide in fear, and its legs were twitching like it wanted to run away, but it didn’t move.

Felix bit his lip, staring between Mercedes and the cat. Sylvain’s promise bounced around in his mind, echoing. If they failed here, then it would be broken. 

However, Mercie’s hands soon fell away, her face lighting up in a smile. “There we go. He’s no longer injured. He just needs to be cleaned and fed.” 

The cat blinked up at them all, testing its legs. When it found it could stand, it meowed,  _ loudly.  _

Sylvain laughed, half out of sheer relief. “It sounds just like you when you’re hungry, Felix!”

Felix flushed, punching Sylvain in the shoulder. “Shut up! Mercedes...I thank you.” He knew he sounded stiff, but she looked like she understood.    
  
“Of course, Felix,” she said warmly, turning to leave. That left Felix and Sylvain alone with the cat, who was currently purring and rubbing up against the swordsman’s leg. 

Felix leaned down and gathered him in his arms. The cat  _ mrrped _ happily, licking his face. 

Sylvain laughed, crowding in to pet the kitty’s grungy coat. “Aww, he likes you! What’re you gonna name him, Felix?”

Felix rolled his eyes. “I’m not naming him. You do that. I’m going to get him food. And a bath,” he added, wrinkling his nose. 

“Okay!” Sylvain said cheerfully. They walked back to their rooms, where Felix pulled out a shallow sort of bucket and went to fill it with water while Sylvain dragged around a piece of string for the cat to pounce on. 

When he got back, he just sort of stared at the makeshift tub. “How do I do this?”

Sylvain shrugged. “Just put him in the bath? C’mon, he’s such a dirty boy. Aren’t you a dirty wittle boy?” Now he was addressing the cat in a sickeningly cutesy, high-pitched voice. Felix rolled his eyes again. 

“Fine. Put him in.” 

What followed were twenty minutes of loud meowing, water splashing over every surface of Felix’s room, and a new litany of cat scratches on them both. But the cat was clean. 

Now that it wasn’t covered in dirt, Felix could see that the cat had a lovely pale ginger coat, striped with darker orange at intervals. It almost reminded him of a certain idiot that was now cuddling with said cat, both worn out from the bath.

He smiled a small, private smile to himself as he put the tub away and attempted to mop the water from his floor. 

When he was done, the cat was stirring again, restless and hungry. “What do we have that cats eat?” he asked, looking over at Sylvain. 

Sylvain raised an eyebrow. “Does your room have mice?”

Felix scowled. “No. We’re going to the dining hall. Bring the cat.”

“Sylvain Jr,” Sylvain corrected. “That’s his name.”

No. Absolutely not. “We are  _ not _ calling him that!”

“It’s too late! I’ve already named him. You can’t change it now!” Sylvain said cheerfully. “Besides, you gave me permission to do it.”

Felix rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was getting a headache. “I’m calling him Cat.”

“No!” Sylvain pouted, gathering Sylvain Jr in his arms. “He’s our baby now, Felix. He needs a proper name!”

“Our  _ baby? _ ” For some reason, this made Felix’s cheeks heat up. Hopefully Sylvain wouldn’t-

“Aww, Fe, are you  _ blushing? _ ” Sylvain asked delightedly. 

Which, of course, only made Felix flush more, storming away to the dining hall, Sylvain and the cat in tow. It was a good kind of embarrassment, though; the kind that came with the warmth in his chest at the thought of doing something like adopting a cat with his boyfriend. It was under strange circumstances, of course, and the cat would likely still be wild after this...but for just a moment, it was a nice thought. 

After scrounging up something for the cat to eat, it surprisingly followed them back to Felix’s room. Felix had been sure it would run off after being sated. However, here it was, purring and happy in their bed as they got ready to sleep.

Sylvain finished undressing and slipped into bed, opening up his arms for Felix to fit himself in. Once they were snug, Sylvain Jr trotted over and curled up on the pillow, centimetres from their heads. The sound of contented purring filled the room.

Sylvain gave a small chuckle, kissing Felix’s temple. “Told you we’d save him,” he murmured. “Now he’s our baby.”

Felix shook his head slightly, unable to keep the smile off his lips as he kissed Sylvain back. “You promised,” he whispered. “So I knew.”

**5 (Battle)**

_ “I’ll always have your back, Fe. I promise.” _

Felix pounded on the door of the infirmary, ignoring the healer passing in the hallway that gave him a dirty look. It was the third fucking time this month that his stupid idiot of a boyfriend was in there, all because he kept throwing himself in front of blows meant for Felix. It was stupid, self-sacrificial behaviour, and Felix was  _ tired _ of it. He wasn’t going to lose Sylvain like he lost his brother. His father. 

Finally, Mercedes cracked the door open, serene smile seemingly unaffected by Felix’s anger. “We just finished with him. Do you two want some privacy?”

“Whatever,” Felix growled, knowing that Mercedes would take that as a yes. Sure enough, the infirmary was empty of anyone else except Sylvain, who was sitting up in the cot, a small, sheepish grin on his face. 

He opened his mouth. “Save it,” Felix spat, looming over him in what he hoped was an authoritative way. “How many times have I told you to fucking stop getting yourself hurt? It’s not a  _ game _ , Sylvain! You’re going to get killed! I-” His breath caught, and his voice lowered. “I don’t want to lose you.” 

Sylvain’s eyes were big and mournful looking. He raised his arm, swathed in bandages, and brushed his knuckles over Felix’s cheek. Felix couldn’t help but lean into his warm touch. “I know,” he said softly. “I know, Felix. But do you know how I would feel if you got hurt or killed in an attack I could have prevented? You’re my everything, Fe.”

Felix felt frustration boiling inside, souring the tenderness. “You fucking idiot. Don’t you know I feel the exact same way? If it’s not okay for me to get hurt, why is it okay for you to?” 

He could see the answer in Sylvain’s eyes the moment the question left his lips, and he burned with loathing for the demons inside his boyfriend that caused him to think this way. “Shut up,” he said, cutting Sylvain off before he had even begun speaking. “The answer is that it isn’t. We watch each other’s backs, and we keep each other safe. It’s not one or the other.” 

Sylvain nodded slowly, weariness settled into his face as he lowered his arm. He looked tired. They were all tired. 

Felix waited a few seconds for his message to sink in, and then he leaned forward, placing his hand on Sylvain’s cheek, just like he was doing previously. He stared into Sylvain’s eyes, making sure his boyfriend was staring back. “I don’t want to lose you,” he repeated, about as quiet as he could make it. 

A faint smile rose to Sylvain’s face. “Love you, Fe,” he murmured. 

“...I love you too, you oaf.” 

Sylvain raised his arms, his eyes taking on that puppy-dog look that Felix couldn’t refuse. “Snuggle with me?”

Rolling his eyes, Felix unbuckled his sword belt and pushed aside the thin blanket, making room for himself as Sylvain, his smile growing bigger, shifted to one side. Felix climbed into the cot, which was hardly big enough for two grown men, and fitted himself along Sylvain’s side, where he belonged. 

“You’re an idiot,” he murmured, tilting his head up to press a small kiss to Sylvain’s dumb, smiling mouth. 

Sylvain wrapped his uninjured arm around Felix’s waist, pulling them closer together. “But I’m your idiot, right?”

“Yes.” Felix was quiet for a few moments, breathing in his boyfriend’s familiar scent mixed with the harsh smells of the infirmary. “Next battle, let’s coordinate better. We’ll cover for each other. We won’t jump in front of swords like we have death wishes.” 

He felt Sylvain’s laugh rumble through his body as he kissed the top of Felix’s head. “Okay. You remember what I said before the mission, right? I promised I’d always have your back. And I always will, Felix. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” 

Felix clutched onto Sylvain’s shirt, as if he could hold him tight enough to ensure that that was the truth. “You’d better not. You can’t break a promise to me, Gautier.” 

Sylvain sighed, shifting in the cot to get more comfortable. It seemed fatigue from the battle and subsequent healing was catching up to him. “I never have...and I never will, Fe.” 

As Sylvain dozed off, Felix remained at his side, thinking about the truth of this statement. They had changed since they were kids, become angry and jaded and all twisted up inside. But they had each other, and the promises that bound them. And that was enough for him. 

**+1 (The Promise)**

The fight was over. The commander had been defeated, and all remaining enemy soldiers were throwing down their weapons, surrendering to the Kingdom Army. 

Felix flicked blood off his sword and looked around, taking stock of his allies. He saw Ashe and Annette embrace each other, trembling. Ingrid and Dedue were talking to the boar. Er, Dimitri. Mercedes was speaking to a soldier. ...And Sylvain was nowhere to be seen. 

Panic began to rise in him, even though he tried to tamp it out. Sylvain was an experienced fighter, he told himself. He was probably just held up somewhere on the battlefield. 

That didn’t make his stress levels go down at all. He ignored Ashe as he tried to speak to him, instead turning on his heel and striding in a random direction, calling for his boyfriend. “Sylvain?” he shouted, growing frantic as no shock of red hair popped into his vision, big smile on his face. “Sylvain!” 

“ _ Felix! _ ” 

Ingrid’s voice. Panic seizing him, Felix whirled around. “What?” 

Ingrid looked pale as a ghost. “It’s Sylvain. He’s-”

No, Felix thought. He wasn’t going to lose Sylvain now. Not now, and not ever. They had a  _ promise.  _

“Where?” he screamed, already running. 

Ingrid led him to a side of the battlefield that he hadn’t searched yet, where he finally saw his boyfriend. He wasn’t standing upright, cleaning his lance with that signature grin. No, he was laying on the ground, eyes closed, hair matted with blood that streaked down his face. His horse was nowhere to be seen. Mercedes was knelt down next to him, her face deathly pale. 

Felix’s stomach seized, and he managed to stop himself from retching, instead stumbling over to Sylvain as fast as his legs could take him. “Sylvain!” he hissed, falling to his knees and hovering over his body. Mercedes didn’t even glance at him, blinding white magic radiating off her hands. Still, Sylvain did not stir. 

“Sylvain, you fucking idiot,” Felix tried again. Everything else faded to the background, the only important thing being his boyfriend bleeding out into the grass that ran red with his blood. “Sylvain. Please. I need you to be alive.  _ Sylvain! _ ” 

His own hands sputtered weakly with magic as he tried to summon what little Faith knowledge he had. Though it was barely anything, he brought his hands to Sylvain’s face, cradling his cheeks with his glowing hands. 

Miraculously, Sylvain’s eyes fluttered open, dazed and unfocused. Felix nearly collapsed with a wave of relief.  _ He’s not dead.  _

But he was close. “Fe?” Sylvain murmured, barely louder than a whisper. 

“I’m here, you fool,” Felix breathed, leaning in close to his face. Their friends and even Mercedes faded into the background as Felix’s world narrowed down to his boyfriend’s face. “What do you think you’re doing? Getting yourself killed? Don’t you remember what we promised?” His voice was rising in his panic, but he couldn’t give less of a fuck. 

Sylvain’s mouth curved into a small, half-smile. He was obviously delirious from blood loss. “Fe. You’re safe.” 

“Of course I’m safe,” Felix hissed. His hands flared as he struggled to channel magic through them, shaking with the effort. He wanted to heal whatever was making his boyfriend’s hair crust dark red with blood. “We die together or we don’t die at all, Sylvain!” 

Sylvain’s smile only grew more serene. “Felix.” His eyes were travelling over his boyfriend’s face tenderly, as if he were only realising that Felix cared about him now. Dumbass. “L...love you.” 

Panic coursed through Felix all over again. “I love you too,” he said desperately, tears beginning to spill from his eyes. “You can’t die here, Sylvain. You’ve never broken a promise to me. Don’t break this one. I don’t fucking care if you break any other promise anymore. Just not  _ this one! _ ” 

Whatever words he had left fell silent on his tongue as Sylvain’s eyes fell shut. Felix’s entire body went cold with the most absolute terror he had ever felt in his life. He whipped his head over to look at Mercedes, who was still holding her hands over a large, ugly-looking wound in Sylvain’s torso. Annette had joined her, adding her magic’s flow to Mercedes’. 

She looked back at him, obviously exhausted. “He’s not dead,” she whispered. “But he’s very close. Keep healing him, Felix. Call his spirit towards you. He is tethered to you, and you can coax him back.”

Felix was panicked enough that he’d do just about anything Mercedes told him, no matter how bullshit he thought it was. So, he cupped his hands back around Sylvain’s face, focusing on every happy memory they had ever had together, as well as all the memories he still wanted to make. His eyes blurred with tears as he thought about the ring he carried around constantly, just waiting for the right moment to pull it out. All of this, he directed into the weak flow of magic coming from his hands, which seemed to sputter and grow stronger, illuminating Sylvain’s face in a gentle light. Or maybe he was just going crazy. 

_ Don’t break your promise _ , he thought fiercely.  _ You don’t get to break this one. We live for each other until we die together.  _

Suddenly, Sylvain’s chest moved slightly, and Felix heard him draw in a laboured breath. But then his vision flickered, unused to using so much magic at once, and he swayed slightly before collapsing beside Sylvain, out cold. 

When his eyes opened, at first he wasn’t sure where he was or what was happening. He was on a bed. But weren’t they fighting..? Wait. 

It all came to him at once. Battle. Sylvain. Dead. 

His eyes flew open, and he coughed harshly, his body aching like he had just run a marathon. But none of that mattered. Was Sylvain..?

He was in the infirmary. The other beds were full of wounded soldiers, but none of them were Sylvain. Panic mixed with dread and hopelessness flooded through Felix all over again. However, there was one bed with curtains around it at the other side of the room. Uncaring about his shaking limbs, Felix hauled himself to his feet and dragged himself over there, ignoring all the faces he passed on the way. He needed it to be Sylvain behind the curtain. He needed him to be alive. 

Just as he reached it, the curtain was drawn aside, and he was staring into Mercedes’ surprised face. Then, she smiled. “Ah, Felix! You’re awake.”

“Where’s Sylvain?” he asked instantly, ignoring the greeting. 

Mercedes didn’t seem to mind, simply holding out a hand and inviting him to the bedside. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”

Felix’s legs wobbled, and he nearly collapsed with relief at her implications. He gravitated to the bedside, where his boyfriend was lying, his chest and torso bare except for the swaths of bandages. He looked weak and tired, but that didn’t stop the smile that came to his face at the sight of Felix. 

“Fe,” he murmured, as Mercedes closed the curtain behind them to give them some privacy. 

Felix could barely muster up the usual anger he felt when Sylvain got hurt. Right now, all he could think was,  _ he’s alive. _ He reached a hand up to cup Sylvain’s cheek. 

Sylvain turned his head and pressed a small kiss to Felix’s palm. “You saved me, Fe,” he mumbled, his eyes finding Felix’s and keeping them locked there, endless emotion welling in the caramel depths. Felix couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. “You kept me here. Guess our promise is pretty strong, huh?”

And then, Felix couldn’t stop the tears from coming. “You idiot. You utter fool. Don’t ever break a promise to me again, got that? You’re not ever dying without me!” Half of it was intelligible with the tears running down his face, but Sylvain seemed to understand. 

“I won’t, Fe. I’m not leaving you here alone.” Felix leaned closer, and Sylvain took the opportunity to bring him into a gentle kiss, despite how gross Felix’s face was right now. Slowly but surely, the tears stopped running down his face, and he contented himself with sharing slow, tender kisses with his one and only, their mouths fitting together perfectly again and again. 

He had crawled into the bed (again) before he knew it, taking extra care not to aggravate Sylvain’s wounds. He was too used to being with his boyfriend in the infirmary, but this time was different from all the rest. This time, he had experienced the soul-crushing fear of really and truly losing the man he loved. To be able to hold him in his arms now was a blessing that he wouldn’t soon forget. 

“You’re okay too, right?” Sylvain asked quietly, once they had finally taken a break from kissing and were now simply cuddling best they could with their injuries. “Mercie told me you passed out.” 

Felix huffed, bringing Sylvain’s unscathed hand to his mouth and kissing it. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me when you’re the one that got hurt.” 

Sylvain chuckled softly, caressing his hand down Felix’s hair. “I can’t help it, love.” 

Felix grumbled and tilted his head up. As he expected, Sylvain was looking down at him, love pooling in his caramel eyes. It was enough to bring a blush to Felix’s face as he averted his own, too full of emotion to express through words. 

Sylvain gave an amused hum, tucking Felix’s hair behind his ear. His hair tie was gone, probably lost on the battlefield somewhere. Felix didn’t mind. 

Suddenly, he remembered something. “Syl.” 

“Hm?”

“I want our promise to be better,” he mumbled. Sylvain stopped smoothing his hair down, going still. Felix rushed to finish his sentence before his dumb boyfriend got the wrong idea. “Shut up. Not like that. I mean, I want it to be official.” 

Sylvain slowly, unsurely resumed threading his fingers through his hair. “Official?” 

Felix peeked up at him. “Yeah. I have a ring. So...marry me, or whatever. When the war is done.” 

Sylvain had gone still again, but this time from shock. “Marry?” 

“Yes,” Felix said impatiently. Sylvain  _ had _ to be being slow on purpose. “I’m asking you to marry me.” 

When their gazes connected, Felix felt the entire world shrink away until it was only the two of them. Sylvain’s eyes were wide with surprise and joy, and Felix felt a fond exasperation rise in him. Had the dumbass not really believed that Felix would want to marry him? Of course he would; Sylvain was his everything. He leaned in. 

“Okay,” Sylvain whispered like a prayer, just before their mouths met in a soft kiss. “I promise.” 


End file.
